Silence
by Sky Astor
Summary: Whouffaldi. Depressive!Clara ... One ficlet that has two versions... Version I - Twelve misses Clara, so he visits her, but her flat seems to be empty... But then he finds her in the bedroom. Version II - Twelve misses Clara, so he visits her, but her flat seems to be empty... She's not even in her bedroom. Where is she then?
1. Version I

**A/N:** \- **Important** \- Wrote this when I wasn't feeling well. Don't ask me what this is because I don't know what this is.  
I had an idea, started writing and then another idea popped into my head - so I've written both ideas.  
The beginning of the fic is the same for both versions.

You can choose which one to read first... Doesn't really matter.

Hope you like it!

PS.  
One of the ficlets was written by the "good" Sky Astor, and the other by the "bad" Sky Astor.

* * *

 **Silence**

 **Version I**

The Doctor was bored and had quite nothing to do - nothing that he particularly wanted to, so he just kept on walking through the halls and rooms of his humming time machine. His thoughts occasionally wandered to Clara, to what she was doing then and where he could take her... or if they would just have a cup of tea or dinner at her place or some pub - they did that every now and then... And sometimes he even stayed overnight.

The want to see her lured him back to the console room. He pulled the main lever and the TARDIS took off.

Clara's flat was silent as a grave and he heard nothing but his own footsteps, his own breathing...

The kitchen and living room were both empty, so he headed to her bedroom. He opened the door slowly and peeked inside.

Oh, right, there she was - lying on the bed, half covered with her blanket.

"Hi, Clara," he whispered in case she was sleeping.

"Hey," she replied with a faint smile, but didn't turn around to face him.

"Aren't you feeling well?" he asked and walked over to kneel down beside her bed, so they were on eye level.

"No…"

No wonder. He'd expected that answer.

Clara had been eating poorly for the past few months - she'd lost weight and was really skinny, he noticed. She also didn't get enough sleep, had headaches and he didn't know how to help her properly. Sometimes he just stayed with her, hugged her, and took her on an adventures, talked with her... That worked, but not always. And when he suggested getting professional help, she always refused, saying that it was not necessary.

"Did you eat anything for lunch?" the Doctor asked, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"Coffee in the morning and three stewed carrots for lunch..."

"Anything to it?"

"Salt."

He shook his head.

"I feel a bit sick now," Clara admitted in her quite tone.

"I don't blame you. You can't eat like this," he whispered.

"I know, but there was nothing better here - nothing that I wanted. And always when I go to buy some food... I either feel like I don't need anything or I forget what I actually wanted to buy," she explained, a bit confused with herself.

The Doctor sighed and then he slowly crawled into her bed, pulled her close.

"Mmmhm, this is good, thank you," she murmured, closing her tired eyes for a moment.

He really must have been a magician or otherwise she just couldn't explain it... Or maybe he was an angel. His presence, the calming aura glowing from him always made her feel better, made it feel like the world was in order and everything was alright. It was beautiful.

"Are you hungry now?" he asked.

"No..."

"You will be soon, I guess. We'll go for a proper meal... and then we'll go to a shop to buy you some food, alright?"

"Alright," she gave him a smile and he kissed her forehead as he was rubbing her back gently.

"And otherwise? Are you okay?"

"Okay, yeah... Just a bit sick and tired now. Don't worry, Doctor," she assured him and kissed his cheek.

"Can't really do that, no" he protested softly as his lips curled into a smile.

...


	2. Version II

**A/N:** \- **Important** \- Wrote this when I wasn't feeling well. Don't ask me what this is because I don't know what this is.  
I had an idea, started writing and then another idea popped into my head - so I've written both ideas.  
The beginning of the fic is the same for both versions.

You can choose which one to read first... Doesn't really matter.

Hope you like it!

PS.  
One of the ficlets was written by the "good" Sky Astor, and the other by the "bad" Sky Astor.

* * *

 **Silence**

 **Version II**

The Doctor was bored and had quite nothing to do - nothing that he particularly wanted to, so he just kept on walking through the halls and rooms of his humming time machine. His thoughts occasionally wandered to Clara, to what she was doing then and where he could take her... or if they would just have a cup of tea or dinner at her place or some pub - they did that every now and then... And sometimes he even stayed overnight.

The want to see her lured him back to the console room. He pulled the main lever and the TARDIS took off.

Clara's flat was silent as a grave and he heard nothing but his own footsteps, his own breathing...

The kitchen and living room were both empty, so he headed to her bedroom. He opened the door slowly and peeked inside.

He was disappointed when he found that it was empty as well... But that was no problem, he could wait for her. He allowed himself to lie down - it wasn't the first time he'd been lying there... The Time Lord turned his head, so his nose was buried in the pillows and he inhaled deeply. That scent, that lovely scent of his Clara mixed with that sweet one of the sheets made him lazy and he refused to get up for a while...

When he sat up, he took his phone out of his pocket and tried to call her to know when she came back.

To his surprise, the ringtone of her phone came to his ears. Strange. She always had with herself.

The Doctor got up and followed the sound that led him to the bathroom. He knocked on the door.

"Clara?"

No reply.

He knocked again and then he tried the handle - the door wasn't locked.

The Doctor peeked inside and the sight in front of him flooded him with anxiety and pain... The world suddenly shook once or twice and he felt dizzy and sick. So dizzy.

Clara looked like she was sleeping. In the tub, pale as a ghost, bathing in water mixed with her own blood. It was dark. So dark. Almost black. On the floor was a bloody strait-razor, right next to it an empty packet of sedatives and something that seemed to be a goodbye note.

"Clara..." his voice was quiet and broken because he was crying already.

This was like a dream - a nightmare, yet it was all so real.

The Time Lord took a step forward and ended on his knees next to the bathtub... He had a lump in his throat and a headache caused by his crying. His took his coat off and laid it on the ground before his hands sunk into the cold dark red liquid. He pulled her wet and lifeless body out and put it on his warm black coat.

His blue eyes travelled to the deep and open vertical cuts on her wrist and he took her hand - the cold immediately jumped onto him and flowed through his arm to his whole body, making him shiver even more.

The Doctor closed the coat around her while tears run down his nose and cheek as he was looking down at her. His body didn't seem to be under his control anymore and the gravity pulled him down - he just lay down, partly onto her. He buried his nose into her neck and hugged her tightly.

"What have you done, Clara?" he desperately mumbled against her skin.

"Why?"

"Wake up, please... My Clara..."

The Doctor was lost, his body numb as if only one of his hearts was beating and his sobs filled the room. He wished someone would kill him on the spot. No regeneration. Nothing.

Agony.

Twenty minutes later, the ringing of the doorbell reminded him that was still alive.

Clara's granny was at the door...


End file.
